Page 57 of Deprivation

“What?”Are we talking about the same thing here?I wonder, briefly. “No, he gave out his number and said we could text him if we needed him. You know?”

“Uh, Kat…”

“Yeah?” I reply, about to devour my last greasy fry, looking sorrowfully on my empty plate.

“I think that was a private offer.Just for you,” he says slowly, smiling at me.

Dropping my fry onto my plate in astonishment, I look at Jake, dumbfounded. “Dude, you’ve lost it. There’s no way he’d only give his number to some stray PA.” I watch as Jake shakes his head. “Besides, that guy hates me. Can he make it any clearer?”I’m not joining his fan club, either, so there.I finish off the bruised, but still deliciously fried morsel.

“You two are going to be the death of me,” he jokes. “Trust me, I’m not done with him. There’s no way he’s getting off easy after the way he talked to you the other day. I haven’t heard hide nor hair of him since then, but I plan to give him a piece of my mind.”

“Ah, you don’t have to do that. I think I fixed his little red wagon.” I smirk.

“Oh, Lord. What’d you do?”

“Nothing really. Just let him know he couldn’t walk all over me. And might have let it slip that I thought there were much more appealing options out there,” I stop, realizing what I’ve implied. “Not that I find him appealing. Or that he finds me appealing.”

“Yeah, okay, Kat.,” he laughs. “You just keep telling yourself that.” He stands and starts to walk back toward the main ER work area.

Whatever. I have one more hour `til I can blow this popsicle stand. I’m just going to focus on my patients and stop thinking about the appealing ‘man whose name I wasn’t supposed to utter’ in my phone.

* * *

Nick

5:35 p.m.

Jake Harris

Jake: Call me.

Here we go, I think as I walk into the house. I’m honestly surprised he waited this long to give me hell. I need to face the music like a grown man and own up to what I did. Jake is as good as they get. He doesn’t deserve for me to try and sell him a line like a snake oil salesman. I just need to admit I was an asshole and hope he’ll forgive me.

Deciding I need a little liquid courage, I grab a Scotch from my bar before returning his call. Before sipping the aged single malt liquor, I reflect on the last few outings with Jake and his kids. Hell, even Melanie at the club on her birthday. They’re an amazing family, and I concede I’d be more than disappointed if I’ve ruined this relationship with my overbearing conduct. Deciding to grow some balls, I save the Scotch to soften the blow after my call is complete.

“Hello,” I hear Jake’s voice on the other end of the line.

“Hey, Jake. Man, before you-”

“Hey, Nick. Thanks for calling me back. I hate to reach out through your cell. I know I have your number for personal reasons, and I don’t want to take advantage, but I have a guy here with a nail gun injury to his forearm. I can’t get Dr. Evan’s on the phone. Unless there’s been a change in the schedule we don’t know about, that’s who’s listed on call. Any chance you know how to reach him?” he asks, not a hint of animosity toward me.Is this guy for real? I want to kick my own ass!

“Hell, Jake. Yeah, I can get in touch with him, but he’s a leg and ankle specialist. Do you want me to come? I really don’t mind.”

“Yeah, man. If you could. I just don’t feel comfortable pulling this thing out.”

“Sure. I haven’t been home long. I should be there in less than thirty minutes.”

“Thanks,” Jake replies, ending the call.

Grabbing my things and heading back toward the car, I say a private thank you to Whomever is listening that I put off that Scotch. As I drive the distance to the ER, I try to clear my head. Man, I really didn’t expect this to go away this easy. Do I bring it up?Fuck, will Kat be there? Don’t think about that right now. Just go and do your damn job.

* * *

Several hours later, the nail is no longer taking up permanent residence in this guy’s arm. Although no confessions were elicited, I have a sneaking suspicion this injury was the product of alcohol and poor decisions. I decide to hit the physicians’ lounge for a bottle of water before heading out.

“Hey, Nick. Wait up,” I hear.

Looking over my shoulder, I see Jake running my direction.

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